Why These Spells Are Necessary
by Nalonzo
Summary: Oneshot. With Tortall at peace, Numair has no reason to worry and fuss about his privacy, right? Daine makes him think otherwise. Daine&Numair.


**Why These Spells Are Necessary  
**a Tamora Pierce fanfiction on Daine and Numair  
_ (my own attempt on an inane Numaine fanfic)_

by Dama Niqui

_Disclaimer:_ All characters mentioned here belong to the marvelously brilliant mind of Tamora Pierce.

* * *

Numair sat with his nose, as always, in a book, with his "scholarly" face on. He was interrupted by King Jonathan, who was only able to capture his attention after a few solid attempts, and they commenced talking business. As they finished, Jonathan straightened and spoke to the mage in casual tones instead of the formal one he had used earlier. 

"You know I really dislike disturbing you at such times as these."

"What times, Jonathan?"

The king gestured at the cluttered, yet tidy, area around him. "Well, when you're busy."

"Nonsense. This isn't really considered work for me, after all."

Jonathan gave up, knowing better than to argue with a mind as stubborn as his, "I suppose so. I had thought you were the type to put privacy spells up and about."

Numair shrugged. "Really, I don't exactly see those spells as being necessary. As much as I value my privacy, you're welcome to interrupt me. I have no trouble picking up where I left off. Besides," he motioned to the door and flicked two fingers to one side as the lock shifted in place, and he flicked his fingers again to the other side, unlocking the door, "these locks are more than enough, I believe."

"Good, good," the king rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully, "Alright then, since you're absolutely sure. I wouldn't want to catch you at a bad time. Goddess knows I myself don't like being interrupted while I work."

A singing bluebird flew inside, circled the room a couple of times and perched by the window, watching the men. It chirped and preened itself in the warm sunlight.

Jonathan glanced at its direction then smiled flippantly. "At least you're not alone; animals can sense the need for companionship. Daine has done unthinkable wonders with them."

The bluebird looked up and gave a chirp, as if in agreement with Jonathan's words.

The mage only barely registered its presence before the king clapped him on the shoulder in a manly goodbye and left him to his work. Numair turned towards the window to see not the bluebird, but a cat with luxurious dark fur and eyes that were a peculiar shade of blue. As Numair was about to question how a cat had jumped two stories up from the courtyard, he shook his head and smiled at it. Or _her_, as he well knew.

"Hello, magelet."

The cat mewed and strutted gracefully towards the mage, jumping to his lap. The tall man petted her indulgently with a large hand.

"I believe you still have some spare clothes in the drawer by the screen. If not, you can borrow some of mine first until you venture out agai—"

The next thing he knew, the cat weighed heavier than it was supposed to, then he found himself staring at the grey-blue eyes of its owner in her real form.

"Mithros, Daine," he groaned, more than aware of her state of undress after transforming. "Sometimes I believe you have enough boldness for the both of us."

The girl laughed at his mock display of prudery and swung her legs over his lap to straddle him, which he didn't seem to mind despite his earlier comment. "You scholars are a fair sober lot," she remarked. "It wouldn't be so wasteful to enjoy yourself once in a while."

"But I _do_ enjoy my work in—"

She silenced him with an all too quick kiss, parting just a hair's width from his lips, then pulling her head away as he leaned forward in response. "Pray tell, more fun that that?"

He cleared his throat and smiled at her with a half-grin. "I stand corrected."

He ran his hands up and down her sides, admiring her unruly mass of smoky brown curls that skirted over her shoulders. For all appearances, she looked like the wild (half) goddess that she is, with her distinctive hair, animal-like grace, and attentive focus, and in nothing but her necklace that held a single badger claw.

Numair spoke again, his voice suddenly thicker. "Now, let me see again the error of my thoughts, for good measure." She pulled back once more with a smile as he tried to capture her lips again. He tried a third time, then a fourth. Finally, he leaned back with a defeated sigh. "Shakith, this is the worst form of torture you can think to bestow upon me."

"I like to revel in the fact that _I_ can make _the_ Numair Salmalín pull his nose out of his books for more than two minutes without being reprimanded."

His eyes twinkled in delight. "Don't be a tease. It's too befitting of you."

She laughed at his tired comebacks. "You poor thing, tired from all your work. Well," she finally leaned in and let his powerful arms hold her in place. "Let us remedy that."

"Yes, yes. I concur most wholeheartedly." He met her eyes briefly before he caught her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless. As soon as the books and his work lay forgotten, Daine was able to discard his outer robe and started unlacing his linen shirt to run her hands over his wiry chest. She smiled, "I forget to tell you how glad I am that you _don't_ have the body of the typical highbrow mage."

"Of course not, my dear, you know how vain I am," after a while he added, thoughtfully, "besides, I've realized early on that I needed to be fit to catch up with you. I'm determined to slow my aging so as to accommodate you."

Daine giggled despite the heat spreading down her spine and throughout the places where they touched. "Don't change for me, master mage. My feelings would remain the same were you ten years older or younger. I loved you ever since we first talked about binding our hair into proper horsetails." She drew her hands through his dark hair, tousling it affectionately, effectively undoing the thong that held his horsetail in place. She kissed him tenderly, making her way from his temple, and then smiling into his mouth before she pressed her lips against his.

"Ah—that's—Yes, I remember that…," he murmured breathlessly. Daine kissed him deeper as she recognized the last restraints of his reason giving way to the desire that swamped them both. He pulled her closer to him as she placed one hand against his jaw and used the other to undo his belt. She felt him grasp her hips gently at first, then firmly; he was about to carry her to his chambers when the door swung open.

"Numair, I forgot to ask—Mithros _bless!_"

Jonathan turned away with a speed that should have broken his neck as Alanna poked her head into the room in time to find a flustered shrike dart from behind the mage's desk and out the window with a series of angry peeps and various bird curses.

Jonathan was pulling her away with his other hand over his eyes as Alanna tugged him forward with more force. "Jon, you dolt, what're you being so foolish over—oh, my."

Numair had stood up in a flurry of robes with as much dignity as he could muster. His shirt under the dark outer robes was askew, and his belt was fastened messily. His hair was unbound and unkempt, as if he were in a tumble. It was very unlike Numair to be so disordered.

The angry-beyond-words expression he wore on his face explained half of it. The escaping shrike Alanna had just seen explained the other half.

The woman's eyes widened in understanding. "That—that bird. That was Daine, wasn't—?"

"Yes, Alanna," he answered, exasperated, glaring unforgivingly. The air around the mage shook almost visibly.

Jonathan had stumbled back into the room, half-business and half-flustered. "Numair," he started before clearing his throat. "Numair, my good man, I'm quite—I'm very—I'm—I'm…"

"We're sorry to have interrupted anything important," Alanna was all smiles, but of the wicked kind, as Numair dreaded seeing on her face. She was never going to let him live this down.

At last the king regained his regal composure. His embarrassed flush turned to one of teasing reprimand. "You could at _least_ have locked your door, if not cast some… useful spells. Perhaps now you'll take my advice, as we talked about just a few _minutes_ earlier."

Numair flared a bright pink under his tan. "I'll remember next time," he muttered darkly. "Goddess knows I don't like being interrupted while I'm busy," he echoed his words from before.

Jonathan coughed, trying to hide a laugh. Alanna peered out the window to look for the shrike that was Daine. She was perched on a high branch, peeping angrily and ruffling her feathers and flirting her wings at Alanna, who just grinned back.

"Well, excuse _me_, Daine. I never knew you were one for racy rendezvous in broad daylight." She winked evilly at her and brought an amused Jon away from the room as they all laughed at the silliness of the situation.

Numair's throat choked down a chuckle before the angry shrike flitted back into the room to hover in front of the mage. She pecked him not very gently at the tip of his nose.

"I'm just as mortified as you, magelet." He rubbed the slightly sore spot she just pecked. He stared at the door. "I'm going to have to have to put up some spells against unwanted visitors."

Daine transformed to herself again, hands planted on her hips. "From what we've been doing in your chambers lately, I'd expected you to have had them up already."

He shook his head. "All those other times, you'd come through the door and _you'd_ lock it."

"Well then," she raised her chin, "perhaps now _you'll_ be more careful and see why spells as those are absolutely necessary. I can't do everything by myself."

A smile played upon his features. "I'll make sure we won't invite any more interruptions if you carry on your manner of invading my privacy," he promised, referring to the way she had arrived this afternoon. At her blank stare, he gave her an appreciative once-over.

Remembering herself, Daine gave him a shy but brilliant grin as a touch of pink colored her cheeks. "And you call _me_ bold."

He brought her in his arms and kissed her as the air around them wavered with an electrifying force. Daine sighed happily as Numair murmured soundlessly against her forehead, eyes focused first on the door, then to the walls of his study and chambers.

Outside, the Lioness smiled once more as she heard the bolt of the mage's door slide shut. "Well, didn't take them too long to get right back at it," she said, chortling at Jonathan, who gave her a disapproving glance.

"You are the only woman I am comfortable talking about such uncourtly subjects with," he sighed, patting his Champion fondly on the head, which she shook off disparagingly.

As soon as they felt the shift in the air, they watched as the door glowed heavily with magic that was a silver-speckled black for a moment, spilling to a ten-foot radius across the corridor, ending just at the tip of where they were standing.

And then Alanna and the king had promptly forgotten what they were doing outside the mage's door. So they went their separate ways and decided to come back later on when they remembered. Numair was a busy mage; it would be best if we gave him some time right now anyway.

And ever since then, it was common knowledge among the nobles, servants, and everyone in between not to bother the very busy and important Master Salmalín if his door sparkled faintly with a shield of magic, and if the Wildmage called Daine was nowhere else to be found among the castle grounds.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

1. I've been told that shrikes fly fast compared to other small birds, clocking at almost 28 mph, along with hawks and herons. I imagined Daine would pick a small, swift bird to run away from the prying eyes of her friends to leave poor, half-naked Numair alone to fend for himself. :)

2. (if the last part confuses some people): Alanna and Jon have just been affected by Numair's forgetfulness spell.


End file.
